


A MaulxReader part 2: Broken Metal

by always_on_tatooine



Series: Shooting Stars [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Maulxreader, Shooting Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:42:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_on_tatooine/pseuds/always_on_tatooine
Summary: Here's part 2. I hope you enjoy.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Original Female Character(s), Darth Maul/Reader
Series: Shooting Stars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210394
Kudos: 4





	A MaulxReader part 2: Broken Metal

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: mention of blood and some choking. Let me know if there are any other warnings you would like.
> 
> 1785 word count

Dust and smoke hung in the air, creating an orange haze as the first beams of sunlight shined into the small hut. The smell of gas fumes and charged metal accompanied the sight, a heavy aroma that was bitter in taste. Blinking her weary eyes to see past the light smog, (y/n) awoke to the new aura that filled her home. Stepping out of her bed and pulling back the curtain that had separated her sleeping quarters from the rest of the house, she unveiled yet another environment coated in the lingering cloud; the first clue to (y/n) that last night’s memories were in fact as such, and not of dreams. More evidence came to light as she walked further into the room; the disheveled knickknacks, fallen over chairs, Zuzu in a rather restless state, and the Zabrak still asleep on the couch.

Approaching the strange man, his posture remained stagnant from where she had left him. If not for the movement in his abdomen rising and falling with each shallow breath, he was almost lifeless before her eyes. Exhaustion was understandable for someone who had barely survived such an encounter, however, checking his vitals for any serious injuries were still in order.

Zuzu’s distrust for the stranger did not seem to waver with the sunrise as she continued to growl, protesting the man’s stay. (Y/n) picked up the loth-cat, giving comforting strokes along her back, “I know, we don’t get many guests, but I can’t just kick him out in this state. Besides, I already dragged him in here; it would be a lot easier to care for him than to take him all the way to the infirmary in town.”

Placing her dishevel friend down, she transferred her grasp to the med kit she had handled the night before, addressing her attention to the unconscious body. The bacta had already taken care of the more serious injuries, while the ones that had gone untreated had done their fair share of healing by their own accord. In the morning light, she could now see the extensiveness of the tattoos that crossed over his skin. Like the hunting trails (y/n) was so familiar with on the tall grass plains, his markings intently traveled across his prominent face. Where the trails did not cross his crimson skin, they engulfed it, leaving parts of his jawline and the back of his head completely dark. This made it incredibly difficult to know where to clean off the dirt from the crash as (y/n) started to wipe his skin with a wet cloth. As the disasters of the previous night were washed from his face, more lines were revealed; not tattoos, but the ones that embedded into the skin of those who have known so much grief throughout their lives. It became clear to (y/n) that this man who laid almost lifeless before her, has certainly lived a full life before finding his way into her care. Though crashed on this planet it was apparent that this man may have seen many others in his time, traveling the stars above.

Though (y/n) had never left her home planet, a life of “excitement” was nothing new to her. As someone who had lived her experiences, she knew all too well that not living a simple life came at such costs. Being born on a planet such as Orkaron, the laws here were just as few as there were people living there, and those that did, often broke those laws too. This planet was no place for a child to grow up in, yet people such as (y/n) found themselves in such a position. The fortunate thing about such a low population, was that most people made their homes in the city, leaving more space for those who looked for solitude on the floating rock. Yet, such a life came at a price. A price that (y/n) had paid in hard work and bloodshed. Only thing that had cost her as much was the constant battles it took to keep her home that way.

As she continued to clean, lost in thought as the cloth traced each line, she found herself at the top of his head, where instead of hair she found a crown of horns in its place. Never had she seen a Zabrak before, and thus had no clue how sharp his horns were. She could only imagine how difficult it would be to sleep on a pillow and not tear it up; contrasted to how his head was currently hunched over the arm of the couch. In this moment, there was only one way to find out just how sharp they truly were, and in his unconscious state, he was incapable of keeping her from finding out.

She slowly reached towards his horns, but before she could feel the prick of his ivory spike, her throat began to clasp, halting all air from reaching her lungs. It took a moment to register that she was choking. A gloved hand wrapped around her neck, as a pair of glowing golden eyes now glared at her from underneath.

“Where am I?” Though just slightly more audible than a whisper, the aggressively rhythmic voice filled the silence. Noises that followed were only of Zuzu in panic from the attack on her person, but the sound drowned out as the blood rushing to her ears erased everything in the room except for his eyes, and his question, echoing in her mind.

“Is this the thanks I get,” (y/n) gasped, “for saving your life?” If there was one thing she learned, is that fear is the last thing you should show while in the face of danger. Her false confidence must have worked because air was once again allowed to fill up her lungs again as he released his grasp. Still coughing, she expounded, “Your shuttle crashed outside last night. If I didn’t drag you out, you would still be breathing exhaust fumes right now.”

Even in his state, his yellow eyes darted around, as if he was registering every exasperated word she spoke, categorizing each syllable and scanning it into his memory. “Right, of course, my apologies, miss-“

“(Y/n) is just fine, and the little one’s name is Zuzu.” Glancing back at her loth-cat, now hiding behind one of the fallen chairs. Glares were sent towards her hiding spot, as her person was just attacked, and Zuzu’s first response was to run and hide. “Some help you are…”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You can call me Da-,” he paused. “Maul, just call me Maul.” Looking around the small hut, inquisitive eyes took in his surroundings, he continued, “Might I ask, where exactly am I?”

“You’re in my place, on Orkaron.”

“Orkaron!” His face winced in shock and a hint of disgust. “That’s a backwater planet. There isn’t a space doc, not 20 parsecs from here!”

(Y/n) still massaging her once clasped throat now glared at the Zabrak. “Well, you’re not wrong, but if you’re going to choke me and then just insult my home planet, then maybe you were better off being left in the wreckage.”

Her threats fell on deaf ears, for Maul’s mind had moved past the conversation and onto grander goals. “I have to find a way off this damned planet,” in one sweeping motion, he sat up, sweeping the blanket of his lower half, only to have his body betray him, shapely reminding him of last night's crash. Hunching in pain, he let out a loud grunt as he was now quite aware of the condition.

With the blanket removed, (y/n) was reminded that she never inspected his lower limbs for any trauma from that crash. Yet at closer inspection, she could see that she would have not been much help. Though she was acquainted with basic first aid, she had very little knowledge of mechanics. The occasional repairs she made on her jump speeder was nothing to what needed to be done for her guest’s mechanical legs. His pants, with burn marks and torn from being carried in by his much shorter savior, revealed as high as his lower caves, were made up of metal and gears. With all the wear and tear, his left leg showed heavy signs of damage. Gashes on the side cutting deep, revealing its inner workings. Just how much of him was mechanical?

Working past this pain, he brought himself to his broken legs, almost toppling over in the process. “Maul you're in no condition to be walking. You need to sit back down.” (y/n) protested as she got beside him, waiting to catch the broken being. “Thank you my dear,” he looked up at her, the slightest smile hung at the corner of his mouth in amusement. “I appreciate your concern, however I need to find a way of this forsaken planet”

The almost charismatic way he just looked at her was almost enough to make her forget that he had once again insulted her home planet. However, it was successful in stunning her just long enough for him to wobble past her towards the front entrance of her home. What was once an unconscious man on her couch was now a slumped pile barely hanging onto her doorway. Fumes of gas produced from broken gears and escaped the gash on his metal leg. Simultaneously, his still fresh wounds started to reopen, camouflaged by his red skin and black cloths, their whereabouts revealed as his blood shimmered in the morning sun as he was now limping out the door.

“Maul, wait!” In a similar manner that she had the previous night, she ran to shuffle on her shoes so that she could go after the injured Zabrak. For someone in so much pain, he moved very fast. Clutching his side, he made his way to the broken ship. The flames had died down, leaving only an aura of smoke around shredded metal. Morning light now illuminating the wreckage, it was evident to anyone who would come across such a scene that it would take at minimum of a month’s worth of hard work if this ship were to return to the skies; assuming one had access to the right equipment. The broken Maul barely able to stand in disbelief, his golden orbs darted across each point of impact, calculating everything that would need to be done just to get this ship back into orbit. The only way off this planet, and his only hope in seeking shelter from the new order that was falling upon the galaxy was in a state of nothing more than smoke and scrap metal.


End file.
